


Three's a Crowd - So Kill Someone.

by absolutetrashcan



Category: The Misfits (Podcast)
Genre: Alcohol, And stops living on his own like a bitch, Cam moves into the Misfits house, Drugs, M/M, Weed, just boys being boys, no beta we die like men
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-20
Updated: 2019-03-31
Packaged: 2019-11-26 03:26:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,618
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18175232
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/absolutetrashcan/pseuds/absolutetrashcan
Summary: Cam moves into the Misfits house on a Friday.Cam is a weak, weak man.Mason has always lived in the Misfits house.Mason is a weak, weak man.Eric isn't sure what all the fuss is about.Eric is an obvious, thick-headed, dumb man.





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PLEASE NOTE:  
> Working under the assumption that Swags’ real name is actually Eric Vivian Matthews (yes, fuckwits, I know his name isn't actually Eric, but I'm not calling him fucking Swags while he gets courted)  
> Eric is 5’8 and 30yo  
> Cam is 6’5 and 22yo  
> Mason is 6’0 and 19yo

Cam moves into the Misfits house on a Friday. Eric, legs crossed under one another on the couch, watches silently as Cam takes the last box of his things up the stairs. When he had offered his help the giraffe of a man had refused, explaining that he only had a few things. Eric counted seven boxes.

The couch cushion dips beside him and he can’t help the smile that forms as Cam wraps his arm around his friend’s shoulders. “See? Easy enough.”

“Yeah, well, I still could’ve helped you.” Cam doesn’t respond, opting to pull out his phone and send out a quick tweet about the move. Closing his phone screen, Cam laid back on the couch, staring at the blank TV across from him and Eric. “What?”

“Huh?”

Eric made a vague movement with his hand. “You’re staring at nothing, freaking me out dude.” Cam shrugged. “Whatever man, I’m gonna get high, you want in?” Cam nodded, getting to his feet and helping the older man to his. They trudged upstairs to Eric’s bare, but messy, room. In true SwaggerSouls fashion, Eric fell to his mattress like a lump of lead and unceremoniously opened his bedside drawer. Cam waited patiently for Eric to prepare the bowl, then helped his friend by holding the lighter. 

They passed the bowl between them for a good fifteen minutes before Eric passed on a hit and Cam took that as warning for him to stop as well. This was routine. Getting high in Eric’s room when they had nothing to do. Cam was pretty sure that everyone partook in a good bake session with their roommate. Despite his boisterous personality Eric had proven himself to be not only the best listener, but also the best at giving advice. Of course, the stipulation to this fact was that the man had to be high. Cam felt the bed move and shift beside him and with a glance he saw that Eric had taken to laying down instead of trying to keep his body upright. Cam followed suit.

How long had they been friends? Felt like years. Felt like - he turned his head to look at the man so many knew of, but none but a select few knew. Felt like he’d known Eric his whole life.

The other started laughing at something nondescript and whacked Cam on the forearm. He started to laugh with his friend, abs tensing as he rolled to his side on Eric’s bad. Knocking his knees together Cam made note to tell Eric he needed a taller bed. Something that didn’t make Cam feel like he was sitting in a kindergarten classroom.

Cam is nowhere near high enough to not jolt at the sound of the door opening, hand gripping the sheets as if he would find something within the threads to fight against the intruder with. He relaxes at the sight of one of the youngest members of the house. Mason casually saunters into the room and plops himself down on Eric’s computer chair like he’s done it a thousand times before. Eric doesn’t say a word to the young man and just hands over the bowl. Mason takes a few hits, leaning back as he lets the drug hit him.

“Fuck,” Mason draws out the word, sinking lower into the chair. Cam is sure that if he sinks any lower he’ll fall to the floor. The thought makes him giggle. “Fuck boys, I’m exhausted.”

“The fuck did you even do today?” Eric adjusted himself on the bed so he could rest his back against the wall.

“Absolutely fuckin’ nothin’ mate.”

Cam smiled. “So why are you exhausted?”

“Just fuckin’ life man, kills me.”

“Literally!” Eric couldn’t help but laugh at himself, folding his arms behind his head. “But hey, man, it’ll be okay, it always is.”

“Yeah.”

Cam bit his lip as he observed the exchange between friends. Mason had pushed the rolling desk chair closer to the bed, foot resting on the sheets. Eric, who was still resting against the wall, had taken to tapping his toes against Mason’s calf. It wasn’t an unusual closeness for the gang. They were all good friends, had been for a few years. Cam wasn’t sure why it was making him uneasy.

<><><>

Light, thankfully, doesn’t spill in past the blackout curtains Eric has over the only window in his bedroom. So, instead of waking to sun like he normally does, Cam stirs to the sound of Mason’s obnoxious ringtone. It’s some ear-rape meme he had heard a week ago and unfortunately for the rest of the house it had amused him enough to become the tone for any phone call the young man might receive.

“Mason,” Eric’s morning growl reverberated through the empty room. “Mason, retard, your phone.” Cam turned his torso so he could look to the other side of the bed. He was caught off guard at the sight of Mason laying half on and half off their mutual friend. Cam, too tired to process the situation, didn’t say a word as Mason got up, grabbed his phone, and left the room.

Cam noted he was kind enough to close the door quietly behind him.

Unperturbed by the rude awakening, Eric almost instantly falls back asleep. Incapable of doing the same, Cam rolled himself off the bed and onto his feet. He spread his arms out, attempting to keep his equilibrium. Eric grumbled something as he opened the door, probably something along the lines of, ‘shut the fucking door’, but didn’t do much else.

The light in the hallway was enough to really solidify that Cam would not being getting any more sleep that morning. Figures he wouldn’t sleep in his own room his first night at the Misfits house.

On his way to his room he passes Mason, who is seemingly headed back for Eric’s room. “He’s still trying to sleep.” He says, thinking back to the way his friend had clearly been awake despite his best efforts. 

“Oh, okay, we’ll just hang then.”

Cam forced a smile. “Don’t get high. You both need to recover.” He pressed a hand to his head. “Just as much as I do.”

“It’s all good Cam,” Mason slapped him on the shoulder and kept walking. “Don’t be so worried.” 

And with that Mason disappeared behind the corner. Cam scratched at the thin skin at his collarbone, as he often did when he was frustrated, and sulked to his room.

Matt and Ryan had helped him set up his internet and computer the day before, so when he loaded up his computer he didn’t have to struggle through any hoops to pull up his email. He was mindlessly scrolling through the endless list of subject lines and senders he didn’t know when Eric rapped his knuckles on his door frame.

He acknowledged him with a nod.

“God damn, you gotta learn the difference between gaudy and tasteful.”

“What’s wrong with my decor?” He emphasized the last word, earning him a chuckle.

“Oh nothing, just the fact that a color wheel stumbled in here after a bender and vomited on everything but the bed.” He placed a hand on the taller man’s sheets. “At least with these you’ve gone for a natural blue rather than the bright orange of your nightstand.” 

“I like my bright orange nightstand.”

Cam licked his lips while Eric laughed. “You may like it, but my eyes certainly don’t.”

He chuckles. “You sure recovered quicker than I thought you would.”

Eric shrugged. “Mason came in my room and asked if I wanted to queue up with him for some CS, but -” he waved his hand dismissively. “Fuck that. I wanna hang out with you since today is your first,” Eric started to project his voice as loud as he could. “Day at the Misfits household!”

“What’d you have in mind?”

“Oh, buddy, you don’t wanna know.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No one asked for this but me, Yoikes.


	2. Chapter 2

Cameron was glad that he had written out that will a few months ago when his mother pressured him to. At the time it seemed ridiculous. He was young, healthy, didn’t involved himself in dangerous situation. Why would he need a will? Answer: Eric Vivian Matthews. 

If Cam didn’t die of a heart attack he was pretty sure that the fall would kill him. He barely registers the soft hand that curls around his white knuckles. Eric is laughing next to him, enjoying every second of Cam’s torture.

The amusement park had been Eric’s idea and Jay’s follow through and the Tower of Doom had been Mason’s sadistic plea for a good time. The name, fitting as it was, didn’t exactly describe Cam’s view of the downtown area. The way he could see past a few buildings and into some neighborhoods. And that the ground kept getting farther away despite him being in a stationary position.

“This is a bad-,” the words are ripped from his throat as the locks disengage and the seats, with him in them, fall at a rapid speed to the ground. He’s sure that the scream that comes from him is less than dignified.

 

Eric is chewing on a funnel cake, powdered sugar lining one side of his mouth, making his lips pouty as he picked apart the pastry. Cam offered his friend a napkin. “Thanks.” He wiped away some of the sugar, then opted to lick the rest off. Cam looked off away from him and focused on something in the distance. “Sure you don’t want any?”

“No, I’m good. I don’t think my rolling stomach could handle it right now.” Eric laughs maniacally. “Don’t sound too pleased with yourself.”

The rest of the guys are off on one of the big roller coasters, the ones made of metal and loops and corkscrews. Cam had opted out, for the sake of his heart, and Eric had proclaimed he shan’t leave his friend alone on a such a special day. _Plus I’m hungry as shit,_ his friend had tacked on as they had walked towards the food court.

He wonders how different things would’ve been if he had been the same age as Eric. If the two went to highschool together. Would they have been friends? Would he have been one of the kids that hit him with a bag of oranges? 

Eric drops a piece of funnel cake on his black jeans and curses, picking up the offending food and throwing it into the trash. He looks to Cam, moping and saying something about how fucked up the universe was to good, law-abiding citizens.

No, he wouldn’t have been one of those kids. 

Matt is the first join them, saying that the others wanted to go on some water ride and Matt was wearing his Off-White jacket that he just _could not _let it get wet. Jay is next, and then the rest come running in after him. Mason is noticeably soaked to the bone, his shirt now two sizes two big as it pulls itself down off it’s shoulders. He runs up behind Eric and wraps his wet arms around the man’s neck.__

__Eric jumps in his seat, cringing at the cold. “The fuck dude, my clothes are gonna get wet.”_ _

__“Don’t be a pussy,” Mason croons, keeping his hand on the back of Eric’s as he sat down next to him. Cam bristled at the action. “Plus you look better wet.” Cam unknowingly smacks his feet against the ground melodramatically. “Woah, what’d you say to the giraffe to make him so fucking pissy?”_ _

__The look on the short man’s face make Cam’s stomach sink. He looks confused, worried, and a bit hurt. “I’m not pissy.” Cam snaps. “What time are we leaving?”_ _

__Eric wipes his mouth, looking to the ground and then to the rest of their friends. “Uh, I guess whenever everyone is ready.”_ _

__“I’d like to battle Mason in the teacups before we leave,” Matt said. “We’re in an argument that centers around vomit.” Matt looks competitive as ever as he stands. “Pick your passenger, loser.”_ _

__“Eric.”_ _

__“Then I want Jay.”_ _

__“I want in, on Mason’s team.”_ _

__“No way cunt, you’re too fucking tall.”_ _

__“What’s that supposed to mean?”_ _

__“You’re fucking head will spin off.”_ _

__Matt shook his head. “Nah, you should take Cam and then we can take Ryan. So we can all vomit, together, as a team.” Cam rolled his eyes._ _

__

__Eric chose the orange teacup. He sat in the middle of his two friends, arms stretched behind them on the rim of the gigantic cup. Mason held the middle wheel tight in his hands, staring just across from them at Matt and his team in the blue teacup. “Get ready boys, we’re gonna go so fast we’ll break the ride.”_ _

__“I’m confused how this is going to work, are we trying to vomit or?”_ _

__“No vomit.” Cam said._ _

__“We’re trying to go as fast as possible without vomiting. So, build up that iron stomach big man.”_ _

__The music starts up and the ride begins to move slowly. Mason almost immediately starts turning the wheel. His arms tense as he makes big movements to get the cup to turn as fast as possible. In the meantime Eric had pulled his arms in and was clenching his fists at his sides. At a particular rough spin, with Mason having taken a break and coming back with a vengeance against the wheel, Eric reaches one hand out and grabs onto Cam’s jeans._ _

__Cam doesn’t saying anything as Eric’s nails dig through the denim on his leg and tug on the fabric. The music picked up and soon the three were pressed together. Cam reached down and repeated the same action Eric did earlier on the Tower of Doom. He rested his hand over the white knuckles and squeezed lightly._ _

__The ride ends before either team wins or loses. It serves to only prove that all six of them are too stubborn to give up or give in._ _

__Eric stands near the trash can, willing the spinning world to slow while Mason and Matt hang over each other on a nearby bench, yelling about who had the fastest spinning cup and who was the bitch. Cam saunters towards him, offering a water bottle. Eric takes it thankfully, cracking open the plastic bottle and downing half of it one breath. “Spinning, huh?”_ _

__“I don’t like feeling nauseous.” Cam laughed. “Hey! Who are you talk, the tallest guy in the group is afraid of heights!”_ _

__“I’m not afraid of heights! I’m afraid of being dropped from fifty meters up and relying on cables to catch me.”_ _

__“This shit’s safer than driving a car, you know?”_ _

__“I doubt that. That sounds like you just made that up.”_ _

__Eric smiled. “Maybe I did.”_ _

__They both turn when the others call their names. “Come on faggots! One more ride before we leave!” Matt yelled, waving them towards the group._ _

__Cam turned to his friend. “One more ride?”_ _

__“As long as there’s no spinning.”_ _

__“And no dropping?”_ _

__“And no dropping.”_ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have no clue where I'm going with this


	3. Chapter 3

Mason liked muted colors. He liked grays and browns - they were calming. Eric was the embodiment of a vibrant color wheel. The exact opposite of what Mason liked. Mason needed someone calm and sane to balance out his crazy. Eric was just as crazy as him. 

So why couldn’t Mason shake the feeling he had for him?

He nibbled at his fingertips, watching Cam and Eric quietly discuss something at the dinner table. Cam had been living in the house for just over a week and the two had rarely spent time apart. It was starting to get on Mason’s nerves.

The two aforementioned men were too absorbed in their conversation about something that was probably mundane, knowing Cam, to notice Mason approaching the table and pulling up a chair. Neither one spared him a glance. He pouted. This wasn’t how things were supposed to be. Eric was the attentive one of the group. He was supposed to pay attention to him.

Mason grabbed Cam’s phone off the table and tossed it lightly over to the living room. It landed safely on the couch. Which begged the question of why said owner of the phone was giving him the death glare. Mason grinned. Cam rolled his eyes and excused himself to retrieve his phone.

Not willing to look a gift horse in the mouth, Mason took Cam’s seat, now facing directly across from Eric. “What’s the plan for today?”

Eric shrugged. “Didn’t have anything in mind. Cam suggested going into town, but I’m thinking I might just stay home. Play some games.”

Mason lifted his hand to his mouth and bit at his fingernails. “Wanna play some Rust? Like the old days?” The days he so desperately wanted back. When he had all of his friend’s - no Eric was more than a friend to Mason, he was the center of his universe - attention. 

Reaching across the table, Eric chided Mason and removed the other man’s hand from his mouth. “Sure,” He said once Mason set his hand on the table. “Sounds like fun.”

<>

He’s not irrational. He’ll give credit where credit is due. Mason played to Eric’s introverted side. Cam had made the mistake of suggesting an outing on a day where Eric was more keen to staying at home. Eric had been wearing sweatpants and a baggy shirt from his college days, advertising that he was not ready for public eye. Cam hadn’t picked up on that and he was paying for it by sitting alone in his room listening to his roommates yell through the walls.

He spun on his desk chair, mumbling to himself. “Fucker, sneaky little fucker. Played me that’s for fuckin’ sure.”

Lately when he wasn’t spending time with his roommates, or one roommate in particular, he was thinking about his next step. He had acknowledged to himself one night in the shower, with shampoo between his fingers, that Eric was no longer his pal. No longer one of two token American’s in their group. Eric was his schoolgirl crush. The type that walked into rooms and glowed like a light bulb. The unattainable cool guy who made his knees weak. 

This fact, of course, had sent Cam into a bit of a panic. Not because he was crushing over another man, or even another man in his close friend group, but because it was Eric. He didn’t want to fuck up his friendship with him but he also didn’t want to ignore his feelings. He had to handle this situation with a delicate hand, to make sure he didn’t ruin anyone in the process. This included Mason.

Anyone with working eyes could see that the young man adored Eric, placing him on a pedestal, willing to do anything and everything Eric might as of him. Of course, per the cliche, Eric was oblivious to this fact. Although, Cam was sure that even if Eric knew, he wouldn’t take advantage of Mason’s crush. Despite his online personality, Eric in the real world was rather tame, if not shy, and certainly not conniving enough to do something like that.

And Mason being Mason, he didn’t do anything lightly. He had fallen for Eric fast and hard and if someone tried to step between the two of them, who knows what would happen. Mason would self destruct, most likely, and take everyone out with him.

So, Cam needed to handle this situation delicately. He needed to make sure that Eric was aware of his intentions and that Mason understood he meant no ill will. 

He sighed, spinning his chair again. The only question he had, was how to do that.

<>

When the group wanted a good home cooked meal, they shouted for their local Italian. While not on the same level of those from the Jersey Shore, Eric Vivian Matthews could make a mean lasagna. He walked the kitchen like he was born in it, grabbing a spice here, stirring a spoon there. Of course, things would go smoother if he could get his peanut gallery to piss off.

Cam, Mason, and now Matt had gathered around the breakfast nook to watch him cook. At first, it was kind of endearing, knowing that he could capture the attention of his friends. But now? Now it was annoying. Especially when every time he lifted a knife, Cam would say, “Careful with that.” And when he opened the oven Mason came to stand next to him, saying that he was just taking ‘standard precautions’. 

“I don’t need mother hens, fellas. I _have_ done this before, in case you were wondering.”

Cam gave him pitiful smile. “I know, just figured you might like someone looking out for you.”

“Well, thanks for the concern _Cameron_ , but I’m fine. Now,” he turned to the two men, Matt having scurried off to answer a phone call, and pointed at them with a sauce covered spatula. “Get the hell out of this kitchen before I actually lose my fucking shit on you two.”

They exchanged looks, silently asking one another if he was serious.

“Now, boys, before I cook you.”

They manage to give Eric his space until he pulls the final product out of the oven. The whole house came downstairs, set the table, and waited for him to bring the food to the table.

Eric sat between Cam and Mason, licking his lips as he served himself a plate.

During the meal, no one really spoke, all too engaged with eating to hold a conversation.

Until shit hit the fan.

Mason set down his fork, the utensil hitting the porcelain plate with a clang. “Hey faggot,” he said, smacking Eric in the arm to get his attention. “Let’s fuck.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> May I reiterate that I have no idea where this story is going lmao


End file.
